


with ten thousand reasons

by neocxxlture



Series: riffle shuffle [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Card Magic, College!AU, Homemade Food, M/M, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Texting, background tendery!, just Boys being Boys and figuring out how they feel, more angst than needed really, parties and stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 03:29:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18770287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neocxxlture/pseuds/neocxxlture
Summary: Yangyang meets Kun at one of Yukhei’s parties.(Somewhere between dumplings and card magic, Yangyang falls in love.)





	with ten thousand reasons

**Author's Note:**

> i finished this 2 weeks ago but i was waiting for wayv to comeback before posting. stream take off!!!!<3

♠

Yangyang meets Kun at one of Yukhei’s parties.

It is the last weekend of August. The sun is setting and with it, it takes its warmth and gives way to chilly evening air, so Yangyang puts on a bomber jacket over his graphic t-shirt and spends the next fifty minutes travelling to Yukhei’s place wishing he’d have put on jeans that did not have giant holes in them.

The trip almost isn’t worth it, except it’s Yukhei’s party and Yangyang has not seen Yukhei in a few months and frankly – he’s missed him. He spent the summer visiting his family abroad, and while it was enjoyable, he missed all his friends and simply he just missed home – if he can even call Seoul his home, now that his whole life is here in the big city.

When he arrives at Yukhei’s house, he is not surprised to find that it is stuffed full of people – after all, Yukhei is a popular guy. There is not a single person on the planet that wouldn’t be fond of Yukhei, and so his parties are usually packed, more so than any others on campus or in the university area. Yangyang fights his way through the crowd in search of familiar faces, because there are bound to be at least some; Dejun has got to be there, since he was the one to invite him, and he thinks Ten must be as well, as he’s not one to miss parties. If Yangyang is lucky, Ten brought Guanheng with him, and the two of them can hang out while everyone else gets plastered.

In the end, it is Sicheng that he spots leaning against the sitting room piano, talking to a guy Yangyang doesn’t really recognize. He approaches them, and Sicheng waves at him in silent hello. It is not really permission to come closer or interrupt their conversation, but Yangyang does so anyway.

“Hey,” he says to him, and Sicheng only regards him with a raised eyebrow. Yangyang can never tell whether he is happy or not to see him, so he simply chooses to go with the former. “Where is everyone?”

“Nice to see you too, I missed you while you were gone,” Sicheng replies, but his mouth curves in a smile, so Yangyang knows he’s only teasing. It is sometimes hard to tell with Sicheng, really, but Yangyang learned over the years to look for the signs of his true emotions that hide just under the surface.

“You know that I missed you too,” Yangyang says. “I missed everyone.”

“Can’t save yourself now,” Sicheng waves him away, “They’re in the back. Or in the garden, I don’t know. Wherever there’s enough space for an audience.”

Yangyang raises an eyebrow, “An audience? For what?”

“They’re with this guy,” Sicheng tells him, “He’s performing magic for them.”

Yangyang blinks, “Magic?”

Sicheng explains, the words rolling off his tongue lazily like he doesn’t want to talk. Yangyang is familiar with him enough to know that’s not what that is, “Like card magic. Or something. Now get lost.”

“What, why?” Yangyang frowns, but then remembers the boy Sicheng has been talking to; he’s still standing beside them, but he’s given them a bit of space to talk in private when Yangyang approached. He snickers, and Sicheng sighs, “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Well, you did,” Sicheng takes him by the shoulders, and turns him around. Yangyang is still laughing, but when he looks he sees Sicheng is as well. “What’s his name? He’s cute.”

“Bye bye, now,” Sicheng pushes him away, gently.

Yangyang lets him, and then walks away in search of the others to the back of the house, still smiling to himself.

Yangyang searches in the back but doesn’t find any magicians or crowds; he tries three more rooms before coming to the living room. In there he spots Guanheng and Ten, finally, and then he notices all the people huddled together in front of a guy that – yes, he’s holding a deck of playing cards in his hands.

“Yangyang!” Guanheng calls out to him, excited. “Come here, come here! Check this out,” he motions to the boy in front, “Magic!”

Yangyang joins them in the half circle they’ve formed around the guy. He seems to be finishing a trick – he’s holding a card in his hand that, after he shakes it for a moment, changes to another card. Someone closer to the guy exclaims, “What?! No way!” The magician gives him a smile. Yangyang leans closer, without that being his intention.

Ten and Guanheng talk to themselves during the performance. Yangyang does not hear what they say, as he is too busy paying attention to the card magic currently transpiring in front of him: the magician asks someone from the audience to assist, lets them pick a card, gives them a pen to sign their name on it. Yangyang is positive he is not missing anything, that he is looking attentively enough that he should be able to tell when the boy does something suspicious, something that would let Yangyang know just _what_ _it is_ that he does to trick the people around him into thinking he is doing real magic – because of course it isn’t.

The boy produces a card from seemingly out of thin air, plucking it from behind the girl’s – the volunteer’s - ear. Yangyang’s mouth drops open, because that’s not possible – but he just saw it happen with his own eyes.

There are a few more tricks that he does. In Yangyang’s opinion, the show ends too soon. He would love to watch more, for hours even, but he joins the others in the soft applause when the guy tells them that’s all that he can do for them today. The crowd disperses slowly then, and Yangyang gets ready to follow Ten and Guanheng out of the room. Some people stay behind to talk to the magician, and Yangyang cannot deny that he is curious – he wants to ask about that one trick, about how he did it.

After one last look over his shoulder, he ducks out the door after Ten.

♠

He keeps one eye on the magician throughout the evening.

He’s not even really sure why. He still keeps seeing the trick in his mind’s eye – the moment he reached behind the other girl’s head and came back suddenly holding her signed card. It is not possible to do so – Yangyang cannot stand that he doesn’t understand how he did it.

It has his thoughts wandering back to it, every time he catches sight of the magician in the house. Yangyang keeps to Ten and Guanheng, and then stays near Dejun when he finally joins them. The magician talks to various people in the room they’re all currently in, as if he knows everyone there – and when he waves to Ten who excitedly waves back and gestures for him to come over, maybe he does.

Yangyang feels weirdly jittery, as the guy crosses the room over to them. He’s still not really certain why – only that now that he’s not focused solely on the magician’s hands he pays attention to his face and he is, quite simply, intimidating. The boy carries himself with an air of confidence that doesn’t come off as rude, blond hair pushed back from his dark eyes that seem to bore into Yangyang as he joins their little group and greets everyone.

Ten speaks to him first, “The magic you did back there was fucking cool!”

The guy laughs in response, just a puff of air, and the corners of his mouth curl upwards the tiniest bit, “You liked it?”

“Of course,” Ten snorts, “You always were skilled with your hands.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” the guy exclaims, but the smile deepens. “It’s good to see you, Ten. It’s been a while.”

Ten nods, “Too long.” He then gestures to the rest of them with his hands, introducing them one by one. They learn that the boy’s name is Kun and that he is Ten’s former university roommate. Yangyang nearly has to look away when Kun’s gaze lands on him during the introduction.

He doesn’t hang around them too long, and certainly not long enough for Yangyang to gather the courage to ask him about the magic trick. Yangyang watches him as he leaves through the door. Dejun elbows him in the ribs, and gives him a weird look, “What is up with you?”

Yangyang shakes his head with a laugh. Nothing is up with him. He’s only curious about a trick. “I think I still can’t get used to the jetlag. I’m a bit tired.”

♠

Yangyang loves Seoul. He loves living in the city, because here he can never get bored. There is always something to do, someone to meet, mischief to get down to. He doesn’t think he’d be able to move back home, even if he wanted to.

Sometimes he wants to. Sure, he’s got friends here, but sometimes he feels homesick and lonely and wants nothing more than to visit his grandma and eat some of her delicious cooking.

He’s sitting outside in the campus park on a bench, hunched over a textbook with earphones in his ears, trying to cram-study material into his head before his next class that starts in about an hour. It’s a sunny day, so the park is packed full of students, groups having picnics on the grass, studying, or just generally chilling out.

There is a tap to Yangyang’s shoulder. Someone comes to stand next to him, and Yangyang has to squint against the sunlight so he can see who it is. They are quite tall, blond, and admittedly handsome.

It’s Kun. Yangyang panics for a fraction of a second – but Kun is smiling at him, offering a silent wave, so Yangyang straightens his posture and pulls the earphones out of his ears with an enthusiastic, “Hi!”

“Hey,” Kun says, and his voice is low and pleasant though Yangyang notes he sounds a bit uncertain. “Yangyang, was it? We met Yukhei’s party?”

Yangyang has to smile at that. It seems that Kun isn’t sure that Yangyang remembers him, and that in itself Yangyang finds somewhat ridiculous. Kun isn’t a person to forget, in his opinion.

But it’s not like Yangyang is just going to admit he’s been unable to stop thinking about him and his magic tricks, the last couple of weeks. “We did. I thought you looked familiar,” he laughs, putting his textbook away to make space for Kun to sit in. “Kun, right? You’re the magician.”

“Yes, that’s me,” Kun says, and without letting it slip his notice that Yangyang put the textbook away, he asks, “I didn’t mean to interrupt you if you’re studying. I just saw you and wanted to say hi.”

Yangyang gestures wildly with his hand, like he can wave the entire sentence away. “I don’t mind! Please,” he adds, pointing to the seat next to him, “Keep me company.”

Kun sits down, and as he does so, he shoots Yangyang a smile than blinds him more than the sun did a few minutes ago. His heart thuds heavy in his chest, a few times; he chooses to ignore it. “What are you doing here?”

This up close and in broad daylight, Yangyang is able to notice a few things about him that he didn’t the last time they met. For one, he’s got a mole right under one of his eyebrows. “Looking for a place to have lunch at, currently,” he answers. “But it seems like the entire park is occupied.”

There are indeed too many people milling about everywhere. All of the benches and tables are taken. “You’re welcome to have your lunch here, as long as you give me some of the food.”

Kun’s hair is falling into his eyes, this time unstyled. He looks boyish and young, not at all as intimidating as he did in Yukhei’s house. Yangyang finds he likes this look more.

Kun shrugs, and opens his backpack, “Sure.”

Yangyang watches as Kun takes out a tupperware container. He watches as Kun opens it and actually offers him some of the dumplings hidden inside. He amends, quite weakly, “I was joking.”

Kun munches on a dumpling, “You can have as many as you’d like. I made too many anyway.”

When Yangyang was thinking about how he misses his grandma’s cooking, it was in the context of his heart longing for the taste, the atmosphere of her home, the love he felt during the visits to her house. When he bites into one of Kun’s dumplings, for a second he is transported in time and space right into her living room.

He never ate dumplings that would taste quite like hers did anywhere else than at her house. It was something he grew up with and taken for granted, and then lamented over after his family decided to move to a different city, and again when he decided to move on his own even further. She wouldn’t tell him how she made them so tasty, would joke that there was a special ingredient only she was allowed to know about.

This right here, this dumpling he’s chewing on right now – it tastes the same as grandma’s dumplings. Yangyang didn’t think that was possible.

“Are you okay?” Kun peers into his face, one cheek puffed out as he chews, perfect eyebrows jumping up to hide behind his fringe, “Is it not good?”

“No, it’s perfect,” Yangyang says too quickly, pulling a smile to his face, “Thank you for this.”

Kun makes him eat four more dumplings, all the while Yangyang engages him in conversation just so he doesn’t have to focus on his thoughts.

“I’m a teaching assistant to professor Park,” Kun explains when Yangyang asks him what he’s doing at his university.

“I didn’t see you here before,” Yangyang says, absolutely sure that he would have noticed him.

“I started only a few weeks ago,” Kun smiles.

Talking to Kun is easy. As their conversation progresses, Yangyang comes to three conclusions: one, that Kun is endlessly kind, and not only because he basically gave him half of his lunch for free. Two, he is a very grateful target to tease, and Yangyang gets braver with every second that they spend together, joking at his expense; and three, he is gorgeous.

Time flies, though, and soon Yangyang needs to leave for his next lecture. He doesn’t want to – would much rather spend time with Kun, honestly – but he promised his mom he would do his best in classes, and he’s not about to break that promise.

Before he leaves, he takes a few seconds to gather up the courage to ask Kun for his number. “We could, you know,” he tries, “have lunch again, or something. If you want to.”

“I’d like that,” Kun says, handing Yangyang his phone, “Put your number in.” Yangyang does so, with only slightly shaking fingers. Maybe it’s the sun shining down on their heads, but Yangyang feels his face burn.

He has to run to make it to class on time. He feels his phone vibrate with a message as soon as he sits down – it’s from Kun.

 _hey, it’s me!_ (*/ω＼*) _  
what’s your favourite food?_

 _don’t really have one_  
_i can eat just about anything_  
_why?_

 _no reason!!_ ( ´ ▽ ` )

Yangyang regards the message for a moment, smiling despite himself at the cute emojis. It’s a surprising detail, but after he thinks it over, it seems fitting that Kun would use something like that. They somehow seem to suit him.

♠

They keep texting each other.

It starts out with Yangyang asking about Kun’s schedule, and then more about his job at their school.

 _i have classes on monday tuesday & wednesday_  
_and i teach classes four times a week ( ´▽` )_  
_what’s your major?_

_applied computer science  
you?_

_astrophysics_ ( ⁼̴̀ .̫ ⁼̴́ )✧

Yangyang doesn’t think he ever met a cuter person in all his life, honestly. He’s impressed – whether by the astrophysics major or the emojis Kun so seamlessly adds to his texts, he’s not really sure.

It goes on like that. It becomes obvious quite soon that Kun is an exceptionally smart guy. Yangyang also learns that he wanted to be a pilot when he was younger but gave that dream up in favour of studying the cosmos.

 _i loved both but had to pick only one  
i don’t regret my choice though _( ´ ▽ ` )

_that’s great  
the universe is fascinating_

_it is!! !_ ( ´ ▽ ` )  
_why are you studying computer science?_

_i’m good at math_

Yangyang figures it isn’t untrue. He _is_ great at math. He never had a dream, or a hobby that he would love to the point he would think of devoting his life to it – the closest thing to come to that were dance and fashion. And he could not study dance and fashion.

_it’s not really what i wanted to study though_

_then why are you? :o_

Can he say that his mom gave him a choice, and this was the only way to satisfy both her and his needs?

 _just ’cause, i guess_  
_but i came to like it_

 _oh, that’s good!_ ( ´ ▽ ` )  
_what did you want to study?  
originally_

Yangyang’s fingers still over the screen. It doesn’t matter what he wanted to study.

 _modern dance or fashion_  
... _don’t laugh_

 _i wasn’t going to!_  
_so you like those then? dance and fashion_  
_are those your hobbies?_

 _yeah_  
_you could say that_

 _that’s really cool!!_ ( ´▽` )

Yangyang exhales, a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

 _i know nothing about fashion_  
_ten used to criticise me a lot for it_

_oh yeah, i forgot you know ten lol  
he mentioned you were roommates?_

_first two years of uni, yes_  
_then i left for a study program abroad_  
_i was offered a scholarship that i couldn’t turn down, so_

Yangyang realises that that is where Kun must have been the last two years. Yangyang befriended Guanheng a few years ago, and when he and Ten started dating half a year ago he introduced him to Yangyang immediately and they kept hanging out together. Sometimes Yangyang and Ten would hang out, just the two of them. But Ten never mentioned Kun before, and Yangyang never saw him at parties or anywhere else.

It goes on like that, the entire day. Yangyang barely registers that it becomes evening and then night, and they still have yet to cease texting. Kun is really great to talk to - he’s such an interesting person that Yangyang feels like he can’t get enough of him, each new detail somehow more alluring than the last.

The next day, the topic somehow finally falls on card magic. That’s something Yangyang was curious about the most.

_that’s probably the nerdiest hobby anyone can have_

_hey!_ ●▽●

 _no i mean it’s cool_  
_how’d you get to it?_

 _highschool classmate first showed me his magic and i got interested_  
_he taught me some of the basic techniques_  
_the rest i found on the internet or in books_

_there are books about this?_

_thousands of them_

Yangyang, admittedly, knows only the bare minimum about card magic, so he cannot make any judgments on Kun’s level of skill. He can, however, admit that he liked it.

 _what i saw you do at the party was really awesome_  
_how many tricks do you know?_

 _thank you_ (*/ω＼*)  
_i know a lot_  
_i don’t think i’m able to list them all!_ ( ⁼̴̀ .̫ ⁼̴́ )✧

Yangyang would lie if he said he wasn’t dying to see more of the magic. He doesn’t know how to ask, though. He doesn’t want to come off as needy.

Thankfully, Kun spares him the dilemma.

 _i could show you some more, sometime_  
_if you want to_

And that’s how they agree to meet again.

They are both free for lunch on Thursday, but Yangyang only has about forty-five minutes before his class, and Kun doesn’t think they can handle both lunch and magic in such short a time. In the end, they agree that Friday would be best for magic tricks, and that they can have lunch together on Thursday anyway.

That Wednesday evening, Yangyang gets a message from Kun:

_any requests for tomorrow’s lunch?_

_oh i dunno_  
_i was planning on buying something in the convenience store_  
_you don’t have to cook for me_

 _but i’ll have to cook for myself anyway!_  
_making enough for one more serving isn’t a problem_ ( ´ ▽ ` )  
_so? preferences?_

 _i don’t have any_  
_whatever you cook_  
_i’m sure it’s gonna taste amazing_

 _well, i hope so!_ ( ⁼̴̀ .̫ ⁼̴́ )✧

The meal turns out to be kimbap rolls with a few side dishes. Yangyang loves Korean food, so he doesn’t have a problem gulfing down everything that Kun puts in front of him. The dumplings were great, but Yangyang feels like his enjoyment had been overshadowed by memories of his grandmother - now he can appreciate Kun’s cooking without that clouding his judgment.

The food is quite simply incredible.

“How did you learn to cook so well?” He asks in between bites.

Kun shrugs nonchalantly, but Yangyang doesn’t miss the satisfied grin that spreads over his face, even though he wants to hide it. “I don’t know. Just tried it one day and it worked out. Guess I’m naturally good at it.”

“I’m jealous,” Yangyang lets himself whine, for effect. “I tried it a few times, but it didn’t really go well.”

Kun raises an eyebrow at him. “What do you usually eat, then?”

“We eat out, more often than not,” he admits, we in this case being him and Guanheng and Yukhei. “We get like, ramyeon from the store, or something.”

Kun shakes his head with a laugh. “That’s not real food.”

Their forty-five minutes fly by too quickly. Kun packs up the tupperware containers, and together they walk to the main building. Kun insists on walking him to his classroom, and they talk until they come to a stop before the classroom door.

Yangyang thanks Kun for the food. Kun asks him what he wants to eat tomorrow, and only after Yangyang finally comes up with something he lets him go inside.

♠

The next day Kun is already at the park when Yangyang arrives. He is sitting on a picnic blanket, and as Yangyang approaches, he notices packs of cards strewn around him and tupperware containers put a safe distance away.

“What’s this?” He laughs as he comes to stand next to the blanket.

Kun angles his face upwards to face him - the sun makes his hair burn like gold. Yangyang nearly has to look away. “We’re gonna be here for a while. The least we can do is make ourselves comfortable.”

Yangyang cannot argue with that. He pulls the backpack off his shoulders and takes off his shoes as well before sitting down.

“Why do you have so many card decks?” he asks.

Kun reaches for one, and takes out the cards inside with a smooth, practiced motion. “If you’re doing magic, you should always have more than one deck at the ready. I have two to practice with and several more to do tricks with. It’s not great form to perform magic with a used up deck.” He pauses, “Well, sometimes it’s great, but I don’t usually do those sorts of tricks.”

Yangyang examines the decks. He sees now that not all are of the same sort - there are ones of blue and red colours but identical designs, and then there are more unique ones: a deck with butterflies on the back, or with a colorful skull, or with red cherries.

Kun is shuffling the deck he’s currently holding, “We can try some simple tricks, first.”

Yangyang nods, “Sure.” Not like he would know which tricks are simple and which are not.

Kun offers him the deck. “You can shuffle it. As much as you want to, until you’re satisfied with it.”

So Yangyang does. He doesn’t shuffle the way Kun does, but Kun doesn’t seem to mind that at all; he’s looking at Yangyang’s face. Yangyang focuses on not dropping any of the cards. When he’s done, he hands them to Kun who spreads them all out in a fluid, skilled motion, “Pick a card. Any card you want.”

Yangyang reaches for one at random. He pulls it out, and Kun squares the deck up. “Memorise it.”

It’s the Four of Diamonds. He looks to Kun. “Got it.”

“You can give it to me now.” Kun offers a hand. “Face down, so I don’t see it.”

He takes the card, keeping it face down. “I’m going to insert it somewhere into the middle of the deck, okay?” He does so as he’s talking, and Yangyang watches carefully as he pushes the card in, then squares the deck up again.

“It’s in the middle, right?” Kun asks, and Yangyang nods. It should be in the middle.

He can’t help but smile. “I think so.”

Kun mirrors his expression. “You know, sometimes these cards have a mind of their own. You may put them into the middle or at the very bottom, but you never know whether they will stay there. Sometimes they just jump right back up.”

“That’s not possible,” Yangyang says.

And then Kun turns the first card around.

It’s the Four of Diamonds. His Four of Diamonds.

“No way!” he exclaims.

“Is this your card?”

“Yeah, but—” he shakes his head, “It was in the middle.”

Kun laughs, “I just told you – you can never trust the cards!”

“Can you do it again?”

Kun shuffles the deck again. “I don’t like to perform the same trick twice in a row. Let’s try something else instead.”

And so they do. For the next trick Kun has Yangyang pick another card, has him memorise it and then give it to him. Similarly, as before, Kun inserts it somewhere close to the middle of the deck, and then he cuts the cards in three parts, “To lose it somewhere in there,” as he says. He shuffles the deck for good measure, too. His shuffling is fascinating to watch.

Kun holds the deck with his left hand, “I’m gonna try and find it, okay? This is a bit tricky, but you can help me.” He runs his thumb along the edge. “Just tell me where to cut.”

When Yangyang says, “Make it half and half,” Kun cuts the deck with his one hand - and a card shoots out of there that he expertly catches with his other hand. He presents it to Yangyang, “Is this your card?”

Of course, it is.

“How do you do that?!” he can’t help but ask, “Yeah. That’s my card.”

Kun laughs, “A magician never reveals his secrets.” And then, “Wanna do some more?”

It goes on like that - Kun shows Yangyang a trick, and miraculously always finds his cards in ways that should not be possible. Yangyang is dying to know how he did it, all of it - but the allure, the mystery, the not knowing; he loves that just as much. He likes when Kun smiles to himself all satisfied when he manages to make Yangyang exclaim out loud in wonder, and just for that, Yangyang wants to continue to stay oblivious to the technique.

The last trick Kun does for him is a little different. He pretends to take what he calls the soul out of the pack, and then pretends to spread the deck out for Yangyang to ‘see’. It seems endlessly ridiculous, but Kun tells him to “just go along with it,” so he does.

“Think of a card and don’t tell me what it is yet. You got it?”

Yangyang thinks - and picks the Ace of Spades. “Yeah. I got it.”

“Alright,” Kun pretends to square the deck up, “don’t forget it.”

He then makes a show of putting the soul back to the deck. He snaps his fingers, and then tells Yangyang, “Okay, you can tell me what your card is.”

“The Ace of Spades.” Yangyang says at once, wondering how this is gonna play out.

“The Ace of Spades, okay,” Kun gently takes the pack in his hands, opens it, and takes the cards out, face up. Kun asks him, “What would you do if your card was the only one turned upside down in the entire deck?”

Yangyang doesn’t need to think about it. “It can’t be.” He realises that’s a bold statement to make, maybe, considering how he was saying the same thing all this time only to have Kun prove him wrong, but this is starting to come down to only the principle of the whole thing.

“Really?” Kun challenges, “but for real, what would you do?”

“I don’t know,” Yangyang says honestly, “I’d freak out?”

Kun laughs again. That’s starting to become one of Yangyang’s favourite sounds. “Good enough for a magician.”

He starts to spread out the deck, going very slowly. The cards go by, one by one, all face up, until there is one card that is turned around, showing its blue back.

Yangyang groans. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“What did you say your card was?”

“The Ace of goddamn Spades.”

Kun says, “Take it out.”

Yangyang picks the card out of there. Kun puts the other cards to the side, and takes the card from him again, still keeping it face down.

“This is not possible,” Yangyang repeats.

Kun is glowing with smugness. “You still didn’t change your mind about that?”

“Well, maybe it’s you that’s impossible,” Yangyang murmurs. “Just turn the card around, old man.”

“Hey!” Kun punches his shoulder lightly. “I’m not old.”

He turns the card around. It is the Ace of Spades.

Yangyang lets himself lie down on the blanket. “I can’t believe this.”

Kun nudges him with his foot. “You had enough?”

Yangyang sighs and shakes his head. “No.” He then sits back up, “But I am getting kinda hungry though.”

Kun puts the cards aside and retrieves two pairs of chopsticks from within his backpack, “Then let’s take a break and eat.”

Kun refuses to spill the card magic secrets, so after ten minutes of trying to get him to explain how he changed a card to another card just by shaking it in the air, Yangyang gives it up. Instead of magic, they talk about anything that comes to mind – so they end up talking about Kun’s family and life before he left to study abroad.

“I’ve been living with my family until I started uni,” he says in between bites, “Then Ten wanted his own place, as it was impossible for us to stay on the same campus.”

Yangyang frowns, “I thought you said you were uni roommates?”

Kun smiles. There is something behind it, though; something distant in his eyes. “Technically we were. We didn’t attend the same university, but he wanted us to live together, so. He found a great apartment for two, close to both of our schools. It worked out pretty well for us.”

“He wanted you to live together?”

Kun shrugs. “We were dating at the time.”

“Oh,” Yangyang says, maybe a bit stupidly. “I didn’t know.”

Kun waves him off, “You had no way of knowing. It’s not like we talk about it much.” He looks over Yangyang’s face, and adds, “Is it surprising?”

Yangyang is surprised, but maybe not by what Kun has in mind. “I don’t know. I don’t think so?” He wishes he could explain, but he’s not really sure himself what he’s feeling, currently.

Kun huffs out a laugh, “You’re cute.”

Yangyang is flustered for a moment, but Kun busies himself with putting the now empty containers in his backpack, so he doesn’t see. It gives Yangyang enough time to compose himself again, so when Kun turns back around to him with a granola bar in his hand and the question, “Do you wanna split it in half?” he can nod and not embarrass himself.

Kun walks Yangyang to his dormitory. They part before the entrance, and Kun waits until Yangyang goes in before departing for his apartment himself.

♠

Over the course of the next few weeks, they meet up a couple more times. Whenever schedules allow, they have lunch together. Kun also performs more magic for Yangyang at Yangyang’s own request – he cannot get enough of it. They don’t spend hours on it as they did the first time, though. Kun just shows him a new trick or two. Sometimes it’s for Kun’s practice, and he always warns Yangyang before every new trick that he doesn’t have it mastered yet and could slip up, but as far as Yangyang is concerned, he performs each trick flawlessly.

They also keep on texting. Kun messages him, sometimes randomly, with funny posts or memes. He also forwards him links to fashion articles that he thinks Yangyang might enjoy. Yangyang saves each and every one to his bookmarks and reads them carefully when he has enough time to do so.

Sometimes Kun sends him pictures of his clothes and asks for outfit advice.

_can i wear any of these jackets with this shirt_

_i would pick a shirt less colorful_  
_it kind of clashes with the overall palette_

 _i see_  
_and these shoes?_

 _if you wear the black jacket, you can put on the red sneakers_  
_it adds accent_  
_snap a full body pic when you’re done_

/ _sent an attachment/_  
_like this??_

Yangyang spends several long seconds looking over the picture. He almost saves it to his phone, before thinking better of it.

_it looks great!_

Yangyang also sends Kun a lot of posts. When he sees something pertaining to astronomy, he usually reads it and then sends it over. Kun sometimes explains to him things the article forgot to mention, and it’s always interesting. Yangyang doesn’t remember a lot of the info as it would take him years to learn about all of it, but the bits and pieces that Kun manages to make understandable for him he finds fascinating.

Kun loves the universe and the sky, incredibly so. He sometimes goes on tangents when they are mentioned, and while that could be tiresome to most people, Yangyang loves to listen. Kun is passionate about what he does and studies; it is inspiring.

Kun adores the universe and the sky, and so when Yangyang plays a videogame and there is a song about exactly those topics, he feels like he needs to find it online immediately and send it to him.

 _/_[ _link_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z_fZLaLJO0Y) _/_  
_i think you’ll like this!_  
_it reminded me of you somehow_

 _oh, i’ll give it a listen later!_  
_i have class in a few minutes_  
_thanks !!_ (*/ω＼*)

They talked about their taste in music before as well, so Yangyang feels confident that this particular song falls within Kun’s preferred genre. It isn’t Yangyang’s preference, however, as he likes when his tunes are heavier with base, more suited to choreographies with strong beats and catchy drops, but he thinks Kun could appreciate it.

He loves this one song, though. He’s not sure what it is about it that makes him feel like so; maybe the melancholic melody, or the bittersweet lyrics, the hopeful progression. It’s a sad song, without a doubt, but it carries a subtone of optimism.

/I still want to talk about the universe and the sky/or the gravel on the beach and life/will you still be laughing at my absurdity?/

♠

“What’s that?” Guanheng asks him as Yangyang walks into the practice room.

Yangyang follows Guanheng’s gaze to the container he holds securely in his grip. “Kun-ge made food for me.”

“Did he?”

“Since we have practice until the evening,” Yangyang shrugs. “And no, you cannot have any of it.”

“Meanie,” Guanheng huffs with pretend hurt. “I didn’t even ask.”

Despite his claim, Yangyang lets Guanheng eat half of the box. There’s too much food for one person anyhow; even if Yangyang doesn’t have a problem eating all of it, he feels good about sharing – especially when Guanheng praises the taste. He relays the message to Kun minutely, texting with one hand while Guanheng remains oblivious in front of him.

That night, after the practice ends and Yangyang makes his way to his room, he gets a text from Ten. It is fairly direct. That’s a bit surprising, as things with Ten usually are anything but.

_kun made you food???_

_yeah_  
_why?_

 _oh no reason_  
_i’m just surprised_  
_didn’t know you two were so friendly_  
_how did that happen?_

_we hung out at school a few times_

_right_  
_you and your mathematics and sciences and whatnot_  
_oh god i just realised_  
_youre both nerds_  
_what a terrifying duo you make_

The next day, Yangyang receives another message, this time from Dejun. That in itself is nothing unusual, as they text all the time, but the content of the message makes Yangyang pause.

It’s about Kun. Again. Why are people asking about him suddenly?

_what’s up with you and the magician dude?_

_nothing is up_

Is something up? Yangyang doesn’t think anything would be up.

_so he didn’t make you a lunchbox?_

_oh, that  
he did_

_so what’s up!!_

Yangyang sighs.

 _it’s not that big a deal!!_  
_so he made me a lunchbox, so what_

_it is my understanding that he doesn’t just make anyone lunchboxes_

_who told you that?_

_that is not important!_

Yangyang realised a few weeks ago that he liked Kun. It had not been a startling revelation; it felt right. Kind of inevitable, even. Kun is amazing. Yangyang doesn’t feel like he himself is, though - compared to everything that Kun does, Yangyang finds himself severely lacking.

He admires Kun. He doesn’t hold any illusions that Kun would admire him back. There isn’t much reason to.

 _he just likes to take care of people_  
_he’s like  
a little bit of a mom, dude_

_how do you know that?_

_aside from the fact that he practically told me?_  
_it’s pretty much obvious from all that he does_

Kun dotes on him, Yangyang isn’t above admitting that much. He also doesn’t lie to himself about their relationship. Yangyang suspects that Kun views him as only a younger brother and usually he doesn’t mind that at all, though now, in light of this conversation with Dejun, he realises that he feels something bitter in his stomach thinking about it. He disregards it.

_i don’t know what the big deal is  
we’re just friends_

_okay  
sorry_

Yangyang doesn't mind that Kun doesn’t like him back. He was in this situation before and he got over it fairly quickly – he can do the same now.  There’s no reason for his friends to know either, and especially Kun doesn’t need to, as Yangyang worries what would happen were he to find out – and he doesn’t want to lose him. So he decides not to think about it.

♠

Yangyang discovers Kun has a passion for photography the next time they hang out.

Kun called him, around noon. It’s a Sunday, the perfect day to laze around in his room and play videogames – but also a great time to be walking along the riverbank, enjoying the precious cloudless October sky. The weather is still pleasantly warm these days, and there isn’t much wind – Yangyang is glad he decided to go out.

They walk side by side and chat. At times Kun slows to a stop to take a picture of something with his camera – the river, the trees around them, the birds sitting atop the branches. There are other people out and about as well, and yet to Yangyang it feels like no one else exists in the world except for the two of them.

Later that evening, after he returns to his dorm and lies in bed after taking a shower, his phone pings with a message. It’s Kun.

 _i’m gonna post some pics i took today to my insta account  
you don’t mind if you’re in some of them, do you? _( ´ ▽ ` )

Yangyang thinks about it. Does he mind? He’s indifferent, he thinks. He thinks Kun should be the one to mind it, if Yangyang wandered into one of his pictures incidentally, as he’s sure he must have. Kun took a great number of pictures that day, and Yangyang hates the thought that he might have ruined some with his presence.

_i don’t mind  
wait, you have insta?_

_oh, yeah_  
_/link/_  
_follow me! ( ⁼̴̀ .̫ ⁼̴́ )✧_

Yangyang clicks on the link almost embarrassingly quickly.

Kun’s feed is full of pictures. There are hundreds of them – most of them are pictures of scenery, of flowers and plants and mountains in the distance. They are beautiful, but Yangyang is more interested in the other ones – the selfies. There is a good number of those as well. There are many pictures of Kun with various people, too. There are Kun and Yukhei, in more than one picture together, and then there are group pictures. Yangyang doesn’t recognize a lot of the people there. He scrolls further, more flowers, more selfies – and then there are pictures of Ten.

There’s considerably a lot of those as well. Yangyang stills and studies them, for a moment. They seem to be almost all candid shots. In one photo Ten is sitting behind a table, a book open in front of him, pencil in hand as he scratches behind his ear. Another shows him in what appears to be a coffee shop, again sitting at a table, looking thoughtfully out of the window. There are a couple pictures of Ten in a field of flowers. He is laughing, head thrown back, the column of his throat exposed.

Yangyang quickly scrolls back up, to the newest posts. He refreshes the page, and the new pictures load. There’s the river, with the sun reflecting off its surface, captured in a breathtaking display. There are pictures of the sky and the clouds.

And then there is a picture of him.

He blinks and clicks on the post to make it bigger. When Kun said he would post pictures of him, Yangyang imagined that he would be a vague outline somewhere in the background, not really the subject of the picture as much as a backdrop – but this is anything but.

He’s in the center of the picture. He’s looking away from the camera, surveying the horizon. He appears to be in thought – and he must have been, because he does not remember Kun snapping any pictures of him directly.

He moves his finger to the follow button but hesitates. It’s not that he doesn’t want to follow Kun’s account. He just thinks about his own profile and all the pictures uploaded there, and they are nothing like this; no beauty or order or aesthetic can be found in his selfies or practice videos or mirror pictures of his outfits of the day.

He shakes his head, and with a slight tremble in his finger, follows the account. Kun follows back immediately.

_what do you think?_

There is a lump in his throat.

_the pictures are great  
you have a great eye_

_one of my many talents_ ( ⁼̴̀ .̫ ⁼̴́ )✧

Kun doesn’t say anything more about it, but Yangyang can’t help but wonder – what does he think of Yangyang’s own pictures, did he even bother to look at his profile at all? These are the questions that occupy his thoughts as he falls asleep for the night.

♠

The next person to ask Yangyang about Kun is, surprisingly, Yukhei.

Yangyang has known Yukhei for years. It’s still kind of hard for him to believe that Yukhei was also Kun’s friend the entire time, as Yangyang had no idea the two even knew each other – maybe that’s why he underestimates the degree to which the two are friends. Yukhei knows a lot of people, but not all are his close friends, however.

He gets a link to instagram, from Yukhei, and the message that follows reads:

_that’s you, right?_

Yangyang opens the picture to check that, yes, that is his neon green hoodie, his Adidas snapback and pants, his black facemask and brown hair. He can understand why Yukhei wouldn’t be a hundred percent sure though, as he’s not facing the camera directly and he’s not close enough that the features of his face would be unmistakable. If a stranger were to look at this photo, Yangyang is willing to bet they wouldn’t be able to recognize him – but his friends would.

_yup_

_okay_  
_sorry if this is forward and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to_  
_but_

Yukhei takes his time typing out what he wants to say. Yangyang patiently waits until the three dots disappear.

_what is going on between you two?_

_nothing is going on_

_really though?  
ten doesn’t seem to think so_

_oh  
what did he say?_

_well, not in so many words, but he found it_  
_interesting_  
_that kun posted the picture of you_

_he takes pictures of many things  
i fail to see how this picture is special_

_he doesn’t really post pictures of other people tho?  
and you’ve been hanging out together an awful lot lately_

_we go to the same school_  
_we run into each other_  
_it just happens!_

_i don’t know, man_

Yangyang exhales. He knows what’s going on, and that is that nothing is going on. Not from Kun’s side, anyway, Yangyang thinks with his heart sinking. It doesn’t really matter, does it? Yukhei doesn’t need to know that Yangyang thinks it could be nice, if there _was_ something between them, if this picture meant more than it does, if the lunches and hang outs meant more than they do.

Not that they aren’t enough – Yangyang is happy with what he has.

 _it’s not like that_  
_me and him_  
_we’re just friends_

♠

Yukhei invites him to another party the next time he, Guanheng and Yukhei are practicing for their university festival performance.

“Another one?” Guanheng asks, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“I deserve a break, man,” Yukhei says, wiping at this sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. “I’d say we all do. All these exams and classes and practice—we need to relax a bit.”

“And your idea of relax is a houseparty.” Guanheng says, not quite a question.

Yukhei grins, “Yeah! It’s fun. I just wanna have fun for a while.”

Guanheng shakes his head, but nods. “Sure. I’m down.”

“I don’t want it to be wild, though. Just the squad. Not like the last one.”

“I can ask Ten and Dejun,” Guanheng offers.

“Great,” Yukhei exclaims, happy. “I’ll text Sicheng later. And Kun.”

Yangyang, who wasn’t really paying attention until now, freezes. It’s only for a second, and he doubts either of them noticed. He’s lying resting on the floor. Yukhei turns to face him, “You’ll show up, right?”

“Yeah, why not.” He says, perfect poker face in place. “You said it – we need to relax.”

He forgets about the party as he goes about the rest of his day. The three of them practice choreography for another hour and a half, and Yangyang drags himself to his dorm room sore and tired. The party really is the last thing on his mind. He’s looking forward to a quick convenience store meal, a warm shower, and sleep.

He is reminded of the event when Kun texts him.

_are you going to yukhei’s party?_

Warmth spreads through his chest. He smiles, despite himself.

_yes_

_great  
i’ll see you there _( ´▽` )

♠

Both Yangyang and Kun are busy with classes and assignments and other affairs, so they don’t see each other until the day of the party at Yukhei’s house, which is almost an entire week later.

Yangyang is surprised to find out that Kun dyed his hair.

Yangyang got used to seeing him with blond hair, as it’s the only color he ever saw on him. He noticed that Kun had different hair in older pictures on his instagram page, but it’s different seeing it up close and expecting to see it again – so it’s jarring that now he looks so different.

His hair is falling into his eyes, and it is a color of milk chocolate, all warm brown shades. Yangyang stands close enough to see that his eyes are lined with little bit of pencil, not too much but just enough to make his eyes look extra pretty. There’s an earring only in one of his ears, and a necklace that he put on over his shirt and zip-up hoodie.

He looks so good that Yangyang gets blindsided, for a moment. It takes a couple of prolonged seconds for him to get back to himself. If Kun notices that he’s staring, he doesn’t let it show.

When Yangyang thinks he can speak over the lump clogging his throat, he says, “Great outfit. You’re learning.”

Kun gives him a broad smile, “You’re a great teacher.”

Yangyang needs a drink, stat.

He manages to make his way into the kitchen and downs a glass of the first drink he gets his hands on, not caring what it is. It steadies him, a bit. He notices that there are more people at Yukhei’s house than Yukhei first planned there on being – just in the kitchen there are five people Yangyang saw somewhere before but doesn’t remember the names of.

With a refill of his cup, he’s on his way back to find Kun when Dejun finds him first. He drags him to a sideroom to play games with him and Yukhei and a couple more people. The games Dejun usually likes to play involve more alcohol than they reasonably should, so Yangyang finds himself fairly dizzy about an hour later.

At some point, Ten joins them. Coupled together, Ten and Dejun are a force to be reckoned with, and Yangyang gets himself caught in the middle. He always has tons of fun with the of them, but he also drinks too much when he’s trying to keep up with their pace. It’s hopeless, however. Dejun’s limit is insanely high and Ten doesn’t care for the amount of alcohol he drinks if Guanheng isn’t around to keep an eye on him.

He feels fuzzy. Like he’s walking through a field of cotton candy. Every single cell in his body seems to buzz. His senses are both heightened and dulled at the same time. He figures he could use some fresh air. He leaves the others to their games (and they are just endless, aren’t they?) and makes his way through the house.

He’s halfway across the living room when he spots Kun on the sofa, talking to some guy. Yangyang saw this boy before, but his brain is too muddy to remember when that was. The only thing that registers is that he’s handsome, maybe even unfairly so. His face is delicate and small and so, so pretty. They are laughing, heads close so they can talk over the general commotion around them. Something within Yangyang boils at the sight.

He wanted air, but his feet carry him over to the sofa. Without much fanfare, he drops himself right in between them. Both their thighs press against his, hot. The other guy sits up to make room for him, but Kun remains seated where he is.

He speaks to Yangyang softly, “Everything okay?”

Yangyang angles his head towards the sound of his voice. They’re very close. Kun’s eyes are so lovely. “I think I’m drunk.”

He cannot keep looking at him, so he closes his eyes. He feels a cool hand touch his forehead. “Do you feel sick?”

Does he feel sick? Everything is kind of spinning, but it doesn’t necessarily feel bad. “I don’t know. Kinda.”

“Wanna go outside for a bit?”

Yangyang opens his eyes. He notices then that the other guy left. He nods. “That would be great, yeah.”

Kun laughs, “Well, come on then.”

Yangyang thinks he’s capable of staying upright without help, and he does manage to do so. Kun, however, keeps a steady hand on his back, gently guiding him forward. “How much did you drink?”

Yangyang doesn’t know. He cannot even make a guess, at this point. “As much as Ten and Dejun did?”

Kun huffs out, “Why would you do that? Do you want to die?”

“We were playing games!” Yangyang says in his defence. “It’s not like I‘m wasted. I’m just—“ he gestures with his hands.

There are no people outside in the back garden. When the door closes after them, it becomes blissfully quiet. They sit down on the grass, side by side.

“You should know better than to drink with Ten, honestly,” Kun says, in that way that lets Yangyang know he speaks from experience. He gets curious.

“Did he ever get you drunk?”

Kun laughs. He’s looking up at the sky. “More times than I should have let him.”

Yangyang smiles. “For some reason, I can’t imagine you being drunk at all. It doesn’t go together.”

Kun sighs and shakes his head. “That’s probably a good thing. It’s not a pretty sight.”

“I doubt that,” Yangyang murmurs. Kun turns to look at him, slowly. His eyes bore into Yangyang’s own, but Yangyang cannot decipher the emotion in them. He seems to be searching for something, and Yangyang has no idea whether he finds it or not – and then he turns his head away.

There is silence for a moment before Kun asks, “Are you hungry?”

Yangyang nods, taking the opportunity to look over Kun’s profile, take him all in. “Kinda starving, really.”

“My place isn’t too far from here.” Kun says very slowly and in a quieter voice. Maybe it’s the alcohol still flowing through his system, but it takes a few seconds for Yangyang to catch the implication in Kun’s words. When he understands, though, he needs to look away from him.

“Yeah,” Yangyang replies. “Okay.”

And that’s how they find themselves on their way, walking side by side as Kun leads them to his apartment. Kun admits that he doesn’t have a car, but that it’s only a ten minute walk to his home. Yangyang, with his mind clearing slowly, remembers to shoot Dejun a quick message that he left Yukhei’s house and he shouldn’t wait for him.

It’s nearly midnight. The streets in this part of the neighborhood are quiet, windows on the buildings dark, everyone already fast asleep. The lampposts cast long shadows over the sidewalk and Kun’s figure, and Yangyang cannot help looking at him from the corner of his eye. This moment, them together under the wide spread of the night sky, surrounded by the lull of the city around them – it feels kind of magical in itself.

Kun’s apartment is small, but very cozy. The open floor-plan leaves the kitchen and living room connected with two doorways to each side, the bathroom and bedroom. There are plants around the place, textbooks covering the table, decks of magic cards resting in various places. A keyboard in one corner of the room.

Kun takes off his shoes and jacket and heads straight for the kitchen. “Make yourself at home. I’ll heat up the food.”

Yangyang plays with a pack of cards that catches his attention. He joins Kun in the kitchen and sits at the table. He looks over the cards, the colorful backs, the individual faces. He saw this deck of cards before, he realizes – the first night he saw Kun perform magic.

“You did a trick before,” Yangyang says before he can catch himself. “You had someone choose and sign a card and then it – vanished, I guess. And then you reached behind her ear and it appeared again in your hand.”

Kun turned to regard him while he was talking, and now his eyes are boring into Yangyang’s own. They’re just as intense as they were that first night. “Yes, I remember.”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” Yangyang admits, and he feels his cheeks heat up. He hopes Kun can’t see. Maybe he shouldn’t be saying any of this, but he cannot stop himself. “About this trick. I really wanted to know how you did it.”

Kun smiles at him. There’s something behind his eyes. “I won’t tell you how I did it.” Yangyang knows that, of course. Kun keeps his secrets very close to his chest. “But I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

They fall silent, but they’re still looking at each other. The food sizzles behind Kun on the pan where he’s heating it up, but he seems not to notice for a moment. Yangyang feels like he can’t look away, feels like there’s something he’s not getting quite yet, something between or around them—and then, as he did before, Kun turns away first, and the moment is broken.

They eat at the table and keep up a light chatter. They jump from topic to topic as the conversation flows, and so it gets to a point where Yangyang points out the keyboard. “You know how to play?”

“I took piano lessons when I was a kid,” Kun answers, “There was a time in my life I thought I could go on to become a musician, but...”

“But?”

“I chose a different path,” Kun shrugs.

Yangyang says before he can lose the nerve, “Play something for me!”

Kun smiles, shaking his head the tiniest bit, “I shouldn’t. It’s late.”

“Just something short. Please?”

It takes a moment, but Kun relents with a sigh. “Fine. Something short. And then we sleep, because I’m extremely tired, and you need the rest.” Yangyang agrees, and Kun stands up to clean the table of their now empty plates.

Yangyang follows after him when he walks over to the keyboard and settles himself on the ground next to it as Kun takes the seat and turns the keyboard on. He puts fingers to the keys and begins to play.

The melody starts out slow, almost shy. It is a slow song, and Yangyang thinks it sounds sorrowful and lonely, every tone a mournful tune. It feels beautiful in its raw sadness.

Kun plays with his back straight and eyes closed, so Yangyang is free to watch his face closely without fear of being caught in the act. Looking at him like this, he thinks Kun would make for a great musician – an idol, even.

The song comes to a stop, and the last notes hang in the air between them. Kun opens his eyes, but looks straight down at the keys, where his hands are still pressing down on them. They both wait.

It’s Yangyang that speaks first. He almost doesn’t want to, but he fears the silence that would follow. “Is there anything you’re not able to do?” He asks, nearly with a shortage of breath. If Kun weren’t sitting right in front of him, proving time and time again the extents of his mind and potential, he wouldn’t believe someone like him could exist in this world. “How many more talents are you hiding?”

Kun looks at him at that, finally. The corners of his lips go up, and with one hand he scratches the back of his neck. “I can sing?” He says, and Yangyang nearly rolls his eyes. He’s perfect. He’s almost too perfect.

“Of course, you can.”

“It’s late. We really shouldn’t stay up.” Kun stands up, turning the keyboard off as he does. “You can sleep in the bedroom. I’ll take the couch.”

Yangyang protests, but Kun isn’t having any of it. He practically shoves him into the room and closes the door after himself with a cheerful _Goodnight! See you in the morning!_

As Yangyang slides the covers over himself and burrows into Kun’s pillows, he can’t help but think that the bed is big enough for the both of them and they could have shared. He has half a mind to get up and tell Kun just so, but the exhaustion of the evening settles deep into his bones and before he knows it, he dozes off.

♠

Somehow, Yangyang finds himself frequenting Kun’s apartment more and more.

He doesn’t know how it starts, really. Kun keeps inviting him over for lunch or dinner or card magic, and after a while Yangyang just heads over on his own when his classes end for the day. Sometimes, he heads over after practice and he spends the night, too tired to go all the way back to the dorms when there’s a perfectly comfy couch right there for him to sleep on without moving an inch.

Kun doesn’t seem to mind. When Yangyang doesn’t have classes, Kun lets him stay in the apartment by himself. Yangyang spends the time alone watching the TV or studying for exams. One great thing about Kun’s apartment is that there is always food in the fridge or snacks to be found in the cabinets, and he can eat something whenever he wants to. In the beginning, Yangyang used to send Kun texts asking if he could have some of it, and only after Kun gave him a stern talking to about how he is _free to eat whatever you want, Yangyang, I made it for you,_ he stops with those.

He feels guilty sometimes though, that he’s imposing on Kun’s space. There are days he feels like a trespasser or a free-loader, and he retreats to his lonely dorm room to give Kun some breathing space. Those days are tough, because he comes to realise that he got too used to not spending time by himself. It’s hard to come back to an empty room with an empty fridge and too many thoughts in his head that he cannot get out.

It’s usually Kun as well that brings him back to himself, when he gives him a call. When he asks, “Where are you?” and Yangyang replies truthfully, “At the dorm.” He doesn’t ask why Yangyang just left his apartment when Kun went out that morning. He doesn’t pry into the reasons, because maybe on some level he already knows – Kun is a smart guy, after all. Maybe he figured it all out.

He always tells him to come back, though. And Yangyang has to wonder then, would he do that if he didn’t want him around? Would he go to the trouble of calling if he didn’t enjoy Yangyang’s presence?

When Kun gives Yangyang a copy of his key to the apartment, Yangyang stares at it for a second, not quite following. “What is this?”

“It’s the front door key,” Kun says, and well, it’s quite obvious that it’s a key, that is not what Yangyang was asking about. “So you don’t have to wait for me every time you want to come over.”

They’re sitting at their usual bench. It’s freezing outside, but Yangyang feels warm. He puts the key on his keyring with all his other keys and pockets it. It feels like it weighs tons.

The thing is, though, Kun wouldn’t do that if he didn’t want to, right? Yangyang cannot stop thinking about it, as he sits in class after class and boring lectures that drone on and on. Kun isn’t that sort of person. He doesn’t do things just because he thinks he should, he does everything with an honest conviction. Why should this be any different?

It’s only a key. Yangyang loses the better part of the afternoon to idle thoughts and worries and questions. In any other circumstance, a key like this would hold so much meaning. Because people don’t just give out free entry to their homes, right? Receiving that right – that is something special. Or it should be special. It could mean so much, and yet, when Yangyang tries to look, really look – he finds that there’s not much proof that it would be something more. Because Kun always looks away first. He avoids Yangyang’s gaze, for a while. He puts space in between them when Yangyang finds himself too close.

And so he can’t help but think – is he that obvious? That transparent? Maybe he’s not as good at keeping his feelings off his face as he thought himself to be. Or maybe Kun is just that smart and perceptive that he was able to figure it out anyway.

And the question that begs to be asked then is: does that change anything?

♠

As the festival performance approaches, Yangyang finds himself to be a bundle of anxiety and stress.

He plays it down, usually. He is good at not letting it show that he’s losing his shit. It’s a useful skill he developed early on, courtesy of so much moving around.

When Kun sees through the front, when he notices that Yangyang isn’t as okay as he broadcasts himself to the world to be, it gives Yangyang pause. It also makes his heart hurt, in a totally indiscernible way. Just to think that Kun is so insightful, that he knows him so well – it’s nearly unbearable.

He’s tired after the practices, as they’re having them more frequently now. He is exhausted, stretched thin, feels too raw with the nerves that he can’t help but bottle up – and the only thing he thinks of to do is to go to Kun’s apartment.

It’s far from the practice room. It’s far from the dorms. Yangyang would fare better just going to his room and sleeping there, but just the idea of being alone makes something within him itch. He needs to have his thoughts taken off everything that is happening, and Kun helps him with that the most out of anyone that Yangyang knows.

They don’t talk about it much. Kun asks him one evening if he’s okay, and Yangyang replies with a shrug of his shoulders and a smile that is just reflex at this point. “I’m fine.”

Kun doesn’t pry, but the expression on his face suggests that he doesn’t believe him. Instead, Kun goes about it a different way – he cooks Yangyang’s most favourite meals three days in a row until Yangyang cannot keep the words shoved down his throat.

He admits, one night, that he’s scared. They’re having dinner at the table, while the TV murmurs in the background. There is an idol producer program turned on, and Yangyang had been watching only until the evaluation of the trainees’ dance prowess. That’s where he turned his head away. He’s sure Kun must have noticed as well, as he notices everything.

So Yangyang took a deep breath and said it. “You know how I have that performance, in two weeks?”

His stomach rolls even as he thinks about it. Kun nods, “Yeah. The one I’m not invited to?”

That makes the corner of Yangyang’s mouth turn up. That was a joke, when he said that – they were talking about the festival a few weeks prior. Yangyang, fearing that he’s going to fail, that he’s going to make a fool of himself on stage in front of the entire school body, told Kun that he was forbidden from coming to see the performance.

“Yeah,” he breathes out. “That one.”

Kun hums, “What about it?”

And Yangyang just says it. “I don’t wanna do it.”

Kun’s hand stops with the chopsticks halfway to his mouth. “What? Why not?”

“It’s—” Yangyang tries, gesturing with his hand as if that would help convey what he means. “I just—I’m scared.”

“What are you scared of?” Kun asks, not unkindly.

“That I’m gonna fuck it up,” he says, “That I’m gonna mess up and drag Yukhei and Guanheng down with me when I do.”

Kun’s gaze searches his face. Yangyang can’t keep eye contact for too long. “Why would you mess up?”

Yangyang doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know what to say – doesn’t know how to articulate the feeling within him that tells him he’s going to fail. Kun repeats, “Yangyang, why would you think that?”

Yangyang shrugs. Kun exhales, and then says, “You’ve been practicing for this for such a long time. You work so hard—every day you practice for hours.”

Yangyang says, “That doesn’t mean I’m good at it.”

“You are,” Kun says, like he means it, “I am not an expert on dancing, but I’ve seen your instagram videos, and I think you’re great.” Yangyang’s heartbeat spikes at that. “And I’m sure Yukhei and Guanheng would agree with me.”

“But,” Yangyang starts, “If I mess up, then they—”

“Honestly, do you think they would be mad at you if you made any sort of mistake? The two of them, really?” Kun asks. Yangyang understands the point that he is making – Yukhei and Guanheng are two of the most understanding people that Yangyang knows.

“They wouldn’t,” he admits, in a small voice.

Kun reaches over and takes Yangyang’s hand in his. “You’re gonna be amazing.” He says, in a tone so full of faith that Yangyang cannot help but be persuaded. “I believe in you.”

He feels himself smile, genuinely. Just Kun’s words make him feel so much better – that in itself feels like yet another form of his magic.

Kun retracts his hand, and they continue to eat their dinner. After a few minutes, Yangyang says into the comfortable silence that settled between them, “You know I was joking when I said to not come to the showcase, right?”

Kun huffs out a laugh, “I was hoping, yeah.”

♠

The two weeks before the festival seem to pass as quickly as a single minute. Before Yangyang knows it, it’s the evening before the big day. He’s in Kun’s apartment, of course, lounging on the sofa he made his bed while Kun sits in an armchair next to him.

He’s grading papers. He’s so focused on the task at hand that he seems to be tuning out everything around him, so Yangyang allows himself to look at him. He’s wearing glasses and his hair is dishevelled from him running his fingers through it in what Yangyang supposes is frustration. He’s been at it for a few hours now, only taking short breaks. There is another stock of papers on the table in front of him.

When Kun groans, throws his head back against the headrest and closes his eyes, Yangyang asks, “Everything alright?”

One of the things they have in common is that they both don’t really like to talk about their negative feelings. Yangyang catches Kun sometimes downplaying his own annoyance when he feels it; not directed at Yangyang, but at other people, usually his students. He doesn’t like to talk about it. It takes a few tries to get him to open up about it, usually.

Maybe it’s because he’s tired, but Kun doesn’t fight him on it this time. “I feel like none of them understood the material I quizzed them on.” He gestures with his hand, indicating the papers in his lap.

“What’s the topic about?” Yangyang asks.

“It’s nothing hard,” Kun shrugs, “At least I don’t think it is? But apparently, I’m wrong.”

“Or they’re stupid.”

“What’s more likely?” Kun asks, bitter tone lacing his words, “That the entire class is dumb, or that I didn’t explain the topic well enough for them to get it?”

Yangyang sits up, “But you explain things really well.”

“Do I, though?” He takes a handful of papers and waves them in the air, “These suggest otherwise.”

“Well, I can only speak for myself, but I always understood everything you ever taught me.” Yangyang says, “You’re a great teacher. There must be a problem elsewhere.”

Kun sighs, “Maybe.”

It takes him another hour and a half to grade the rest of the papers. When he’s done, he turns his head to watch the TV for a few minutes. When he speaks, he does so so quietly Yangyang nearly doesn’t hear him over the noise. “You really think I teach well?”

“Yeah, dude,” Yangyang says as sincerely as he can manage. “I really do.”

♠

The performance goes on without a single hitch.

When Yangyang gets off the stage, he feels electric. It is hard to remember what he felt so scared about when there is so much adrenaline and fire coursing through his veins. He is giddy, he is happy, he is exhilarated – and he cannot get enough of it. It is in these moments, just in backstage, that he realizes why he does this, why he even bothers to dance. He thinks he could do this all his life, that he could do this for a living, in another universe, if given the chance.

When he looks at Yukhei and Guanheng, he can tell that they feel the same way.

They don’t even bother to change out of their performance clothes before leaving backstage. It’s not what they would usually wear, but Yukhei and Guanheng let Yangyang have free reign over their outfits. Yangyang doesn’t like to brag, but right now, the three of them look absolute _bomb,_ if he does say so himself.

They meet up with Ten, Dejun and Kun just outside the auditorium. In the hallway outside, there aren’t as many people as everyone is inside watching the show. As soon as they emerge from the backstage, Ten throws himself at Guanheng, grabs his face and kisses him right on the mouth. Guanheng lets out a little surprised giggle, but he hugs Ten to himself protectively and kisses him right back.

They leave them a bit behind, to give them privacy. Dejun is showering them with praises, but Yangyang doesn’t really hear any of them. Kun is right there, looking at him. His gaze burns, but Yangyang cannot pinpoint why.

When they’re close enough, Kun says to him, “I told you, you were going to be fucking amazing.”

“Oh, he kept saying it over and over,” comes Ten’s voice from besides Yangyang where he suddenly appears again, hand in hand with Guanheng like he’s not willing to let him out of his grasp. “That’s all I’ve been hearing since we got here.”

“I did not,” Kun retorts, almost whining.

Ten drags out, in that way he likes to do when he’s testing Kun’s patience, “You did, though.” His gaze flicks between Yangyang and Kun, and his smile is telling of something his mouth does not say.

Yukhei claps his hands and puts a stop to this conversation with his booming voice, “Everyone, everyone, let’s figure out where to go next.”

Ten’s attention shifts to Yukhei. “What are the options?”

Guanheng replies in a quiet voice, “The other dancers wanted to have a bit of an afterparty.”

Yukhei points a finger at him, “Yes, that. But also, we could just head to my place and chill out.”

Kun chimes in, “You know how that always turns out.”

“I mean it this time!”

Dejun asks, “Where’s the afterparty held?”

Yukhei takes out his phone, “Around here somewhere. Not too far. I don’t really know – I think Sicheng’s got all the info, hold on.”

He quickly types a message and they all wait before Yukhei’s phone rings. He puts it to his ear, “Yeah, man? We’re outside in the hall. No, we’re deciding where to go. Yeah? Okay. Yeah we’re waiting for you.”

He hangs up, “We’re going to the afterparty. Sicheng’s orders.”

No one dares argue.

♠

The club they end up at is a basement-level type of establishment. As soon as they go in, the loud music assaults Yangyang’s senses, but he can feel the pull of his muscles as they beg for him to let them move to the beat. The room is vast, but as there are no windows, it is incredibly hot and stuffy inside. Yangyang takes off his jacket to deal with the heat. He’s wearing only a loose tank top underneath, but he can feel his arms are already coated in sweat.

There are just about thirty people in the school’s dance club, so finding a table for all is impossible. They splinter into groups – some people head straight for the dancefloor while others go for the bar. Yangyang can see Sicheng and the cute guy he once saw him with at Yukhei's house, lazily swaying together to the melody even though the music isn’t slow. There’s also the guy Kun was talking to during the last party at Yukhei’s – standing to the side and talking to a tall, intimidating looking boy.

Dejun and Kun offer to get them drinks. The first round is on him, he tells them all, for the great performance they managed to put on. Yangyang throws back the shot he brings him gratefully, and then Ten takes both Yangyang and Guanheng by the wrists and drags them to the dancefloor.

Yangyang loses sense of time. The only things that he knows in the next however-long is the music reverberating through his bones, the crowd of people around him, and the alcohol that Ten somehow always manages to produce from seemingly out of thin air for them to drink.

When Ten and Guanheng start making out, he figures he should leave them to it and take a break. He is short of breath but feels as alive as ever as he makes his way out of the crowd. He finds Kun, Dejun and a guy he thinks is named Taeil sitting at their table, shouting to be heard over the music. Yangyang throws himself into the seat next to Kun, knocking their shoulders together.

He throws his head back and closes his eyes. The world swims around him. That feels familiar. After a moment, there is a hand on his forehead, touch light. The fingers travel from his temple down the side of face and settle on his neck. “Everything okay?”

That, too, feels strangely familiar.

Is everything okay? Yangyang opens his eyes, and comes face to face with Kun, closer than he’s anticipated he would be. He feels his heart thud in his chest, painful. He doesn’t think he can ever get used to this sight, even if he’s exposed to it every single day for hours; the way Kun’s hair falls into his eyes, how his eyebrows furrow when he’s concerned, how his eyes seem to sparkle with the club’s neon lights.

He thinks he’s never been better.

“Wanna dance with me?” That’s not what he wanted to say.

Kun laughs. Yangyang notices a blush on his cheeks. “I don’t know how.”

Yangyang, in a fit of substance-bolstered bravery, takes Kun’s hand in his, the one that was resting on his neck, “I can show you.”

When Kun doesn’t budge, Yangyang tugs on his hand, “Come on.”

Kun resists for a second longer, and then lets himself be led to the dancefloor.

They don’t mingle with the crowd, though. Yangyang figures Kun will be more comfortable staying on the sidelines. Kun stands in front of him, awkwardly still. It makes Yangyang laugh.

Kun says, “I can’t dance.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Yangyang puts both hands on Kun’s shoulders, “Just do whatever feels natural.” He trails his hands down Kun’s arms, slowly, swaying with the beat. “Just feel the music.”

To Yangyang’s absolute delight, Kun takes the advice. Yangyang dances the way he usually does, and after a while he notices that Kun mirrors his movements as best he can, and honestly – the guy’s got moves. He’s great at dancing, despite what he claimed before. Yangyang keeps that thought to himself, just for tonight.

It doesn’t take long before Kun stills again with a sigh, “Ah, I’m tired.”

“For real?” Yangyang laughs. He feels like he can’t stop smiling. Or looking at Kun, or feeling warmth in his entire chest. “Wanna sit down?”

“No,” Kun shakes his head, “I’m fine right here.”

Okay, so maybe Yangyang is drunk today as well. There is no telling how much alcohol Ten was able to get into him, because it hits different when he sweats it out on the dancefloor, but he can tell that he’s not really sober. He can also recognize the signs in Kun. What he can’t recognize is the emotion behind his eyes, when he looks at Yangyang then, and Yangyang doesn’t want to hope for anything – because Kun looks away. He always does.

Except this time, he doesn’t. They’re so close that Yangyang can feel the heat emanating from his body, feels the ghost of Kun’s breath on his face. He takes a step forward. Kun doesn’t back away. There’s really nowhere else to go, nothing else to do than lean forward.

At that precise moment, something – or someone, rather – slams to Yangyang from the side, almost sending him hurtling to the floor. He manages to stay upright only because the person that ran into him is keeping him in his embrace. When he rights himself and is about to tell this person off – because seriously, now? – he realizes that it is Guanheng.

He’s grinning from ear to ear, oblivious to Yangyang’s irritation at almost falling down, or the delicate situation he just crashed and interrupted. “Ten and Dejun are hungry, so we’re going out for pizza.” He declares. “Or McDonald’s. Whichever’s closer.”

He keeps his hold on Yangyang, tight and secure, giggling into his ear. Yangyang likes a drunk Guanheng almost as much as Ten does, usually – he’s the nicest person to be around. But now he swallows down his disappointment. Something was about to happen, between him and Kun, and Yangyang cannot help but momentarily let his mind wander to what could have been if Guanheng didn’t interrupt them so untimely.

“Pizza sounds great,” he sighs. He does feel hungry, too.

Kun is avoiding his gaze again, and he keeps on doing so throughout the rest of the night. He’s not too obvious about it, but Yangyang notices because he’s paying attention.

♠

Something shifts between them.

Yangyang sleeps over at Kun’s place, naturally. They stumble home, considerably inebriated, and Yangyang doesn’t bother taking his shoes off before falling to the couch face first and falling asleep. When he wakes up though, a few hours later, he finds that his shoes are off, and there’s a blanket thrown over his frame that he does not remember taking.

Kun makes breakfast, but neither of them eats much. Yangyang isn’t hungover, but he does feel sick to his stomach. He keeps watching Kun for signs of – anything, really. Any indication that he would remember the night before, or what happened (or didn’t happen or almost happened), but there is nothing. Kun treats him the same way he usually does, so Yangyang keeps his words at the back of his throat.

He’s not sure if he should say something. He’s not sure what Kun is really thinking at all. He doesn’t want to bring it up in the case that Kun is pretending to not remember because he is uncomfortable with it or embarrassed. The air between them is full of – something. But Yangyang cannot pinpoint what it is that makes the space between them feel so dense and heavy. Is it because he read the situation well, or absolutely wrong?

The uncertainty is stifling.

♠

Yangyang is in the hallway just outside the door to Kun’s apartment, having returned there after a day of classes. He is about to open the door, but he freezes in place with his hand outstretched, because that’s when he hears it – the sound of the piano.

The piano itself is not what gives him pause. He’s gotten used to Kun’s playing – loves it when he does. He stops because there’s something about the song that is so, so familiar, like he knows it.

It takes a moment for him to figure out where he knows it from, but when he does, his heart drops to the pit of his stomach.

It’s the song he sent him, however long ago it was. The OST to that videogame he played once. The one that made him think of Kun, at the time. Kun isn’t singing, but Yangyang hears the words in his head anyway.

_/i still want to talk about the universe and the sky/_

With his hands shaky, Yangyang opens the door and enters the apartment. He does so careful not to make any noise, as he doesn’t want to make Kun stop playing. He stands still and watches him from the other end of the room, watches his fingers dance along the keys, graceful and beautiful.

Each press of the keys, each note mirrors the beats of Yangyang’s heart, a perfect harmony. There’s no one to see him, but still he feels so vulnerable, like he’s being laid bare for the entire world to look at, rendered so by the soulful, earnest melody.

Kun’s finishes the song, slowly. The ghost of the sound reverberates through the quiet it leaves in its wake.

He takes a step forward. There’s a plethora of thoughts swirling around in his head, none making too much sense. Out of them, he picks one that he thinks is neutral enough, “You learned to play the song.”

Kun stands up, “It’s quite beautiful. I’m glad you sent it to me.”

Yangyang doesn’t know what to say to that. He feels like he should say something, anything, about this thing that lingers between them like a shadow, but he can’t. Kun bypasses him on his way to the kitchen. “You hungry?”

And just like that, they’re back to normal. But Yangyang’s mind stays back in that moment, even while they’re having dinner, while Kun prepares for his class the next day and Yangyang lounges on the sofa.

♠

Kun texts him during class that he is leaving to visit his family.

_i won’t be gone for too long!  
just about a week ;o;_

It’s quite sudden, as he didn’t mention it before that he was thinking of going away. It seems just random enough that Yangyang suspects there might be an underlying reason that he’s not telling him.

_did something happen?_

_of course not_  
_i do miss my family though_  
_you know i don’t visit them too much_

Yangyang does know that.

Kun departs for China the following day. Yangyang thinks they’re gonna keep talking, but Kun doesn’t text back for hours on end. Yangyang, after mulling it over, can understand why that would be so – he must be busy, after all. He’s with his family now, of course he wouldn’t cling to his phone and text Yangyang the entire time.

So he waits. He thinks maybe in the evening, when Kun gets some time to himself, he’ll come back online. But the replies still come sporadically, that night and the next day and the one after that. With each one, Yangyang’s heart sinks further and further into his stomach.

He thinks if he didn’t know Kun better, it would seem like he was distancing himself.

But that’s not something that Kun does, Yangyang rationalises to himself. Kun is direct more often than not, if there is some issue that he has with anyone, and he isn’t afraid to call them out. Yangyang goes over the events of the past few weeks in his mind, trying to figure out what it was that he might have done wrong, and he comes to the same conclusion every single time. The latest party. The kiss that didn’t happen, but the one that he’s sure was about to happen.

They were going to kiss that night, he cannot deny that. Kun cannot deny that. Maybe the fact that Kun needed to get away is his own way of dealing with the fallout and realisation– maybe he feels bad. He was drunk, Yangyang knows. He also knows from his own experience that drunk minds sometimes don’t think so clearly, no matter how bright they might be sober.

And, okay, nothing actually happened. But what if Kun regrets that he even let them get to that point? He knows how Yangyang feels, because Yangyang isn’t as naive as to think he hides it from him well – so what if he thinks he messed up, somehow? And all the signs, all the looks, everything – what if Yangyang completely misinterpreted Kun’s intent, after all?

What if Yangyang messed everything up between them, by having this stupid giant crush on him?

♠

Ten is waiting for Guanheng to finish practice, couple days later. Kun has now been gone for a week. Yangyang got a message from him, just that morning, that read: _i’ll be staying longer than expected! probably another week_

Yangyang spent the entire practice being distracted and sighing so heavily that Guanheng had to stop their routine and ask him what was going on.

But Yangyang doesn’t really know what’s going on, not specifically, so he waves him off and resumes dancing.

When he sees Ten come into the room, he is struck by an idea. Ten knows Kun, does he not? Maybe he would be able to tell Yangyang what’s going on in Kun’s head, just so Yangyang could make heads or tails of the situation without relying only on his feelings or assuming too much.

Guanheng and Ten leave together to have dinner, and Yangyang heads for the dorms after another half an hour of practice. He takes a shower, scrolls his social media for a bit, and when he cannot bear to wait any longer, he messages Ten.

_hey  
can i ask you something?_

_that depends on what it’s about_

_kun_

_oh_  
_then yeah sure_  
_what’s up?_

Yangyang sighs.

 _i think he’s avoiding me_  
_like_  
_avoiding talking to me_

_what  
why would he do that?_

_that’s what i wanted to ask you  
because i honestly don’t know_

_i don’t know either  
i don’t think I’m the best person you should ask about him, frankly_

_why not?_  
_you know him, don’t you_  
_better than other people i mean_

 _well_  
_there was a time i knew a version of him, sure_  
_but that was a long time ago, yang_  
_he’s not the same person he was a few years ago_  
_just as i’m not the person i was when we dated_  
_i don’t think i can help you_

Yangyang slumps down, his shoulders sagging.

_ge, please  
   i don’t know who else to ask_

It takes a few minutes for the reply to come.

_fine  
tell me what happened_

It takes a few minutes for Yangyang to recount the important events of the last few weeks to Ten. It takes a few more minutes for Ten to read over everything, and even longer for him to respond.

 _okay_  
_i’m not sure if i’m right and i might not be but_  
_from all that you told me here_  
_i think_  
_that you didn’t actually do anything wrong_

_what does that mean?_

_it means that Kun is_  
_how should i say this_  
_look it’s like_  
_when we were dating, he would get into these moods, right_  
_or that’s what i called that at the time_  
_you know that he’s not really good at dealing with his own emotions, don’t you?_  
_i don’t know about now but at least back then he wasn‘t_  
_we both were bad at it_  
_and i don’t know if he realized_  
_but he kept everything to himself, each thing that bothered him, if it was personal_  
_like i would mention his weight and he would get all silent and sulky but act like everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t_  
_and he would refuse to talk about it_

That does sound familiar, even if it’s in a completely different context.

_he does that, still  
sometimes_

_it was bad_  
_and i’m sorry to say i was part of the problem_  
_you know, you’re at least willing to figure out what it is that’s making him feel like he needs to distance himself_  
_but i didn’t_  
_i just let it be hoping eventually it would resolve itself somehow_  
_and it did_  
_but i think that’s one of the reasons it couldn’t have worked out between us in the end_  
_we’re both stubborn pricks_

Yangyang lets that slide without comment.

_so then  
what am i supposed to do?_

_try talking to yukhei, he might know something_  
_he and kun are tight buddies_  
_or you know what maybe you should just talk to kun directly_

And that might be the best course of action, Yangyang thinks. But he’s still scared.

_i’ll text yukhei first  
thanks_

♠

They don’t have practice the next day, so Yangyang decides to have this conversation over text as well, as he doesn’t want to wait. He shoots Yukhei a simple _I need to talk to you_ in the afternoon and waits for the response.

Which isn’t exactly what he was anticipating, but he guesses it makes things a bit easier. At the very least, he doesn’t need to explain the situation again.

_about kun, i presume_

_how did you know?_

_listen, i don’t have much time right now_  
_do you want to meet later?_  
_we can get some food and talk about all this_

Yangyang agrees, and later finds himself a fifteen minutes’ walk away from campus waiting for Yukhei in front of a McDonald’s establishment. The weather is murky, a slow drizzle coming down on his head.

Yukhei pulls up to the curb in his car, rolling down the window. He motions with his head, “Get in.”

Yangyang walks around to the passenger side and gets in with a huff. “You couldn’t have picked me up at the dorm?”

“Sorry,” Yukhei laughs, the way he does when something obvious has been pointed out to him that he didn’t think of before.

They go through the Drive, and Yukhei orders their food. They wait for the order not saying anything; Yangyang looks out the windshield straight ahead, not really seeing what’s in front of him. The raindrops make for a sort of melody as they fall onto the metal of the car.

Yukhei parks the car in the McDonald’s parking lot so they can eat. Yangyang doesn’t understand why they didn’t just go into the McDonald’s itself, but he doesn’t want to bother asking. That’s not what he wants to talk about, anyway.

“How did you know that I wanted to talk about Kun?” He asks, before shoving fries into his mouth.

“Oh, we talk every day,” Yukhei says, cheek puffed out with food as he chews, “And he mentioned—” He stops himself, and swallows down the bite. “Well. I’m not sure I can say, actually?”

Yangyang freezes with his hand halfway to his mouth. Even claiming to be so busy, Kun is talking to Yukhei every day, but he barely replies to Yangyang’s messages. Yangyang tries not to feel hurt about it, but – why is Kun doing that to him?

“Oh,” he says, dropping his hand in his lap.

Seeing Yangyang’s face fall, Yukhei quickly adds, “Look, man, I don’t mean to get in between any of this, I mean, it’s not like it’s any of my business. He just needed someone to talk to about it.”

“No, that’s fine,” Yangyang says. It is fine – he knows Kun and Yukhei are good friends. Maybe even best friends. “I don’t want you to snitch on him, Xuxi, I just...” He pauses, looking for the right words. “I’m just really confused.”

Yukhei searches his face. “Because of what happened?” He asks, softly. “At the club, I mean.”

He shouldn’t be surprised that Yukhei knows about that as well. He sighs. “Or what didn’t happen. But that’s only part of it,” he says, “I just don’t... I don’t know why he’s shutting me out like this, you know? I mean, what did I do wrong? Just tell me that.”

Yukhei runs a hand through his hair, “Man, you didn’t do anything wrong.” He then levels Yangyang with a gaze, one heavy enough to make Yangyang feel nervous all over again.

It’s a moment before he speaks, “You really like him, don’t you?”

Yangyang could laugh, really. Because it must be obvious to anyone that bothers to pay even the tiniest bit of attention to him. He looks away from him. There’s no real point in denying it anymore, is there? “Yeah.”

Yukhei hums. It is then that Yukhei’s phone pings with a notification for a message. He replies quickly, thumbs heavily connecting with the screen. When Yangyang looks at him again, he sees that he is frowning.

“Is that Kun?” he asks, before thinking better of it.

“Yeah, sorry,” Yukhei says while still typing furiously, “I’m just trying to explain something to him.”

Yangyang leaves him to it. It takes about a few more minutes, but then Yukhei puts his phone down, and doesn’t pick it up again even as it keeps chiming with incoming messages. He angles his entire body to Yangyang, “I can’t say much as I am bound by the bro code and all,” he says, “But listen to me. You really didn’t do anything wrong, okay? Don’t beat yourself up about this.”

Yangyang listens to the words, but they don’t really make much sense in his head. “But clearly there is something wrong and I just—” He takes a moment to organise his thoughts. “Does he feel bad because I’m—” He trails off and tries again. “Because I have a crush on him?” He doesn’t let Yukhei answer. “Because I can get over it. I can pretend like I never had one in the first place. I just... I don’t want to lose him, as a friend,” he admits, and hates how pitiful his voice sounds to his own ears. Maybe having this conversation in the car was actually a merciful idea – he can’t imagine the embarrassment he’d feel if someone overheard him like this. “Can you just tell him that?”

Yukhei sighs, but not in exasperation. He looks sympathetic. Yangyang believes the expression that Yukhei is currently sporting on his face is of the person that wants to tell him a secret but isn’t allowed to.

He puts a hand on Yangyang’s shoulder, comforting. “As much as the situation is complicated _,”_ he says, “it’s not as bad as you think it is.”

Having finished their meals and also the conversation, as Yangyang doesn’t know what more to say, Yukhei drives them to the dorms. Before Yangyang gets out of the car, Yukhei tells him, “Don’t worry too much, okay? It’s gonna work out.”

Yangyang cannot help but worry, though. This conversation didn’t really do anything to ease his anxiety; maybe it even stoked the flames of it within his stomach to burn more intensely.

He does try to take his mind off it, however. He meets up with Dejun and they play videogames in Dejun’s room for hours and only emerge when they’re starving.

For the next few days too Yangyang busies himself with anything that he can – and keeps himself surrounded by people. It’s an efficient technique. He has fun, for a while. But then he returns to his room, and it is entirely too quiet. He curls up in his bed, buries himself under the covers, and before he falls asleep his mind inevitably returns to the piano and dumplings and magic cards.

♠

A week passes, uneventful, cold.

And then Kun returns.

They stopped that little bit of texting that they kept up, so Yangyang had no way of knowing he would be back. He’s walking down the hallway at school when he sees him – talking to the pretty boy Yangyang remembers from the party at Yukhei’s house and the club.

He falters in his step for a second, almost comes to a stop. But then he finds resolve within himself that he didn’t know he possessed, and he bypasses them, not giving them a single cursory glance. He’s not sure Kun notices him. He doesn’t care whether he does, for the duration of the moment that it takes him to walk to the entrance and walk out of the building.

His heart wants to jump out of his chest, that’s how frantically it beats against his ribcage.

♠

Kun texts him first, to Yangyang’s utter surprise.

He picks up the phone with shaking hands when he sees who the notification is from.

_hey  
can we talk?_

He sits down on the edge of his bed. He wanted to talk to Kun for the better part of the past few weeks, but now – now he starts to feel scared all over again. He doesn’t know what to really expect. He knows that Yukhei has been texting him steadily the last few days, too.

_yes_

At least Kun is talking to him again. That is the good part of this, Yangyang repeats to himself over and over. No matter what Kun actually says to him now, at least he’s _back_.

Yangyang watches as the messages come in one after the other, in quick succession.

 _i think the first thing i need to say is_  
_i’m sorry_  
_i’m really sorry_  
_i shouldn’t have just left like that_  
_i realised later how unfair it was to you_  
_and for that i want to apologise_

Yangyang’s thumbs fly across the keyboard.

_only for that?_

_there’s more  
but i thought i’d start with this _

_okay_

_okay_  
_yukhei was right, you know_  
_when he told you that you did nothing wrong_

_i take it he told you what we talked about_

_kinda?_  
_i don’t know if he told me everything_  
_the point is_  
_i needed time to figure some stuff out_  
_this wasn’t really your fault_

Yangyang doesn’t know what exactly he means by _this_. He’s not really sure he wants to ask about that just yet.

_so did you?  
figure stuff out?_

_i think so, yes_

_you know_  
_you can talk to me about it_  
_if you want to_

_i’d like that  
but maybe not over text?_

Yangyang’s heartbeat picks up the pace, painfully. He wants to see him again, so desperately he aches with it. He wants to talk to him, hear his voice, his laughter. He wants to go back to the way things were before – before the mess of the club.

_do you want me to come over?_

_if you’re okay with it_  
_i can make you hotpot_  
_or whatever else that you’d like ( ´ ▽ ` )_

Yangyang looks over the emoji – and his chest fills with warmth.

_anything you make is fine  
did you learn any new magic while you were gone?_

_actually, i did_  
_i can show you_  
_it’s a really neat little trick_

_i’ll be over in 30_

_dress warm!  
it’s quite cold outside_

♠

Yangyang realises that nothing really got explained. He’s got over thirty minutes to ponder over and analyse every single word Kun sent him in his texts and he comes to the conclusion that he still feels somewhat hurt by Kun’s behaviour towards him. What he also realises, though, is that there must be some sort of reason – and he’s willing to hear Kun out, whatever that reason might be.

He knows that Kun wouldn’t intentionally hurt him.

He still has his key to Kun’s apartment, but he knocks on the door and waits for Kun to open up. Seeing him again after two weeks, it feels like he’s meeting him all over again for the first time. He just – he gets more handsome each time Yangyang lays his eyes on him, doesn’t he? It’s a bit unfair. Yangyang knows he isn’t too bad on the eyes himself, but Kun... Kun is on a level of his own.

He can’t help the smile that spreads over his lips when they come face to face. “Hi.”

Kun mirrors the expression. “Hey.” He says, just a breath. Then he steps aside, opens the door wide. “Come in.”

The inside of the apartment smells wonderful with the food Kun seems to be currently cooking. While Yangyang takes off his jacket and shoes, Kun retreats to the kitchen. Yangyang isn’t really sure what to do next, so he hovers in the hallway. Kun throws him a glance over his shoulder, “Come here.”

Yangyang slowly walks over to sit at the kitchen table, watching Kun work. He moves about the kitchen with a skill that seems ingrained in his body, like it’s second nature. It’s attractive, even.

For a while, they exist in silence. It’s not uncomfortable. Silences with Kun never are, even though they’re rare, as Yangyang often fills them with chatter – but they happen, from time to time. Just like now. It is not stifling, but it is loud with the unspoken words.

While Kun cooks, they pick up a simple conversation again. It’s easy to fall back into the rapport. It’s just natural for Yangyang to talk to him again, to tease him even. Yangyang feels safe in Kun’s presence, as he did the entire time before. That’s why the – the distancing, Kun avoiding him, that’s why it felt so off.

There is still an elephant in the room. They can talk all they want about silly things but Yangyang knows that when he leaves this apartment today, it will be after acknowledging what they refused to acknowledge for weeks. He cannot go another sleepless night without knowing. He cannot go another day agonising over his own feelings. They’re going to have to talk about everything; Yangyang will have to confess, and Kun will need to explain why he acted the way that he did.

Whatever happens after – they will somehow deal with that too.

They eat in silence again, with the TV murmuring in the background. The food is, as always, excellent. It was only two weeks, but Yangyang realizes that he missed it – that he missed Kun, more than he can really say.

Kun’s phone chimes with a message. Kun looks it over quickly and lets out a huff of air, something between a laugh and a sigh. “Not this again.”

“What is it?” Yangyang asks.

“It’s Ten, actually.” Kun speaks slowly and in a low voice, like he’s being careful to pick the right words. “Reminding me that if I don’t talk to you properly, he’s going to kick my ass.”

Yangyang’s heartbeat stutters, “Really?”

One of the corners of Kun’s mouth goes up, “He wouldn’t be able to hold his own in a fight against me and he knows it.” He says and then adds, “He’s right, though. We should talk.”

Yangyang waits. He wants to speak, he really does – but his throat constricts, and so he gives Kun the opportunity to begin instead.

Kun lets out a sigh, a real one this time. “I’m not really good at this.” His face falls, visibly. Yangyang wants to reach out and hold him, but he stays motionless. “I don’t know where to start. I’m sorry.”

“Then maybe I should say something first,” Yangyang manages to get out of himself, voice clear of any confidence. When Kun nods for him to go ahead with a silent _okay,_ Yangyang inhales and exhales, and then just plunges on. He needs to say it. The elephant gets ready to trample its feet all around the small apartment. “I like you.”

There is silence for a moment. Yangyang is sure that his heartbeat can be heard in the quiet that follows, that’s how loud it sounds to his own ears. Admitting this, this simple truth – it’s one of the hardest things Yangyang’s had yet to do in his twenty years of life.

Kun smiles. The expression on his face is so complicated Yangyang feels lost as to what it means. “I know.”

It makes Yangyang laugh. “I figured you might.” He looks away from Kun, settling into the chair, deflating. “I guess I wasn’t too subtle about it.”

He doesn’t know what expression Kun is making now. “You weren’t. But that’s alright.”

Yangyang shrugs. “I’m sorry, you know. If it makes you uncomfortable. That’s not what I wanted.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Yangyang sees Kun put down his chopsticks. “That’s not it.”

Yangyang turns to look straight at him, “What?”

Kun is frowning, staring at the top of the table. Yangyang doesn’t know why, but in a sudden fit of clarity he recognizes that Kun seems to be fighting his own self, like he’s considering what to say. Or maybe what to let himself say. In the end, he settles on, “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable.”

“What do you mean?” Yangyang’s heart is still thudding heavily in his ribcage.

“What I’m trying to say is,” Kun articulates each word with care, slowly, “I like you, too.”

Yangyang blinks, not sure he heard right. “You what?”

Kun smiles. He’s still not looking back at him. “That’s what scares me.” He confesses.

Yangyang leans forward, closer to him, without realising he’s doing so. “You like me.” He reiterates.

Kun nods, “More than I thought I would.”

Yangyang’s mind is racing a mile a minute, “But if you knew that I liked you, why did you—” he gestures with his hand, uselessly. “You should have just told me.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“It is, though,” Yangyang says, and realises a second later that it might have come harsher than he meant for it to. “It’s a good thing, isn’t it? You like me, and I like you.”

And Kun finally looks at him again. “You make it sound so simple.”

“But it _is_ simple,” Yangyang says, as he feels the last of his anxiety and fear trickle out of his system. Kun _likes him back._ He knows that for certain now – that is all that he needs to know. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because, you’re...” Kun says, gaze flicking between his eyes, “You’re the age me and Ten were when we...”

He lets the sentence hang in the air between them. It’s a loaded sentence, Yangyang realises. There’s a lot that Kun isn’t saying, in between the lines. He can only guess at the meaning. He’s the same age when they – when they what? Started dating? Fell in love? The implication becomes clearer the more Yangyang repeats the words over in his mind. Is Kun scared because Yangyang is young? Because he likes him now, but fears he won’t in a few years? Yangyang understands that it’s a valid fear. He never dated seriously before, so he has no frame of reference, but he does have compassion and empathy – and so he knows how hard something like that must be. He knows that Kun loved Ten, because Kun told him so before. He also knows that Kun was the one to break up with him, because he felt like that was the best thing he could have done for the both of them. But he didn’t consider it might have impacted Kun in this way – make him fearful of liking someone again, of letting them get close.

He reaches over, uncharacteristically brave, and takes Kun’s hand in his. He feels like what he’s going to say now might be the most important thing he’s ever going to say, so he tries to pick the best words he can. He cannot promise Kun a forever. He barely knows what he’s going to be doing any given day when he wakes up in the morning. But he knows what he feels, and that grounds him – right where he is. “I can’t tell you what will happen. No one can predict that,” he says, “I’m scared myself. I’ve never felt like this before, you know.” Kun’s hold on his hand tightens. “But I—I want to try, anyway. If you’re willing to as well.”

Kun exhales. And then he says, in the most tender voice Yangyang heard him use so far, “I want to try, too.”

♠

So Yangyang guesses they’re dating now.

Nothing really changes. Yangyang still spends his nights over at Kun’s place, only now he’s allowed to sleep next to Kun in his king-sized bed, holding his hand. Or cuddle into his side when they’re watching movies on the TV. Hug him when he feels like it, just for no reason.

They take it easy. There’s really not any rush. But Yangyang catches himself at times when his gaze lingers on Kun’s lips, and he wonders if he should just go for it. It was about to happen anyway, in the club. But they were both considerably drunk. It’s different to look at Kun now, when he’s not bolstered by the alcohol to get into Kun’s personal space and press their lips together. He doesn’t want to push.

They’re sitting on the couch one evening, a deck of cards in Kun’s hands. He holds it with both hands, one thumb along the edge. “I’ll riffle through them, you just say stop when you feel like it.”

Yangyang knows the routine by now, but it’s always fun to go along with Kun’s presentation of the tricks. “Alright. Stop!” He says, right when Kun’s thumb reaches just about the middle of the deck.

Kun separates the two halves and lets Yangyang take the top card of the lower deck in his hands. “Memorise your card, please.”

His card is the King of Hearts. Easy enough to remember. “Got it.”

“You can give it to me,” Kun says, holding out one hand. This is also the usual part of most of Kun’s tricks – he takes the card, puts it into the middle of the deck, and shuffles the whole thing. Yangyang watches his hands closely but looks up when Kun stops shuffling. “Would you say the deck has been shuffled sufficiently and your card is now lost somewhere in there?”

That’s a trick question. Yangyang answers anyway, “Yes, sure it was.”

Kun hands him the deck with one hand, “Look through it and find your card.”

“Fine,” Yangyang sighs, already knowing how this is gonna go. He goes through the cards slowly, one by one, while Kun waits patiently beside him. Sure enough, the King of Hearts is nowhere to be found. “It’s not here.” He says, defeated.

“Oh, isn’t it?” Kun asks with feigned surprise, smug smile plastered to his lips. Yangyang wants to kiss the expression off his face. “Where could it have gone?”

Yangyang has no clue. “Something tells me you know.”

“I have a hunch, yes,” Kun laughs, “Come closer.”

Yangyang leans a bit forward. “Where are you hiding it?”

“The question should be,” Kun says, reaching with his left hand behind Yangyang’s head, “Where are _you_ hiding it?”

Yangyang understands only a few seconds before he feels something flutter the hair behind his ear.

Kun says, “Oh, there it is.”

He knows this trick. He saw this trick before. He holds his breath as Kun pushes his head forward to bring him closer. They’re now only inches apart – Yangyang can feel Kun’s breath ghosting the skin of his cheek.

When Kun pulls his hand back, there it indeed fucking is, right between his fingers – the King of Hearts. “You stole it.”

“My goddamn ear stole it,” Yangyang mutters, too aware of their proximity to do anything else.

Kun laughs, drops the card to the table, and reaches with his now free hand back behind his ear, carding his fingers through Yangyang’s hair. Yangyang tries his chances, “Will you tell me how you did it, now?”

“No,” Kun says, and then he kisses him.

Yangyang sighs against him in surprise at first, and then in relief. And then he reaches with his own hands to Kun’s shoulders and tugs him closer. The kiss doesn’t last too long, just a moment of their lips pressed together. Kun keeps one hand in Yangyang’s hair, and the other he puts on the side of his neck.

When they part, Kun breathes into the space between them, “Okay?”

Yangyang giggles, and nods. It’s more than okay. It’s more than he could even want. For a second, he doesn’t know what to do with himself – he just stares into Kun’s eyes. There’s still that _something_ in them, that Yangyang wasn’t able to figure out yet, but it doesn’t make him feel afraid anymore. It makes him want to pull Kun closer. It makes him want to hold him in his arms and kiss him for hours.

So he does.

♠

**Author's Note:**

> all the card magic described here is Real and can be actually done. if u wanna talk about it or about kunyang more pls shoot me an ask or a dm!! [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/neocxxlture)|[twitter](https://twitter.com/paperplane_127)  
> kunyang lives matter


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